Perfection
by Mama Avio
Summary: "Her mind went blank from joy and this was perfect, just so godamned perfect and not even her dreams could make it so perfect. Today was the most perfect day in existence. Nobody could ruin it for her." the wedding of Belarus. C: i hope you enjoy. x3


**Disclaimer: Hetalia. Lmao. Not mine.**

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**Perfection**

**Avio Favalon**

**A Hetalia fanfic~**

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It was far more perfect than anything she'd ever dreamt of.

The day was warm and bright, filling the entire church with the shades of Heaven. There were beautiful flowers and decorations strewn all around the church, and the guests were all in their best attire. The band was playing, the atmosphere was peaceful, despite the more idiotic nations making fools of themselves. It didn't matter. Today was the most perfect day in existence. Nobody could ruin it for her.

The soft, luxurious, white silk clinging to her form was enough for anyone, from five-year-olds to the highest of hierarchy to the holiest of angels, to crumble in envy. Golden-yellow flowers, beads, and embroidery all wrapped themselves around the garment in a dance of ravishing purity. A large bow, matched in colour to the rest of the décor, was at the back of the dress, dignified and lovely like a small pair of wings, meeting at her lower back in a sweet, delicate way.

Her shining, platinum hair was adorned with the same décor as the dress, gracefully wrapped into an elegant bun with glimmering netting holding it into place. The little make-up she wore was flawless, making her look more doll-like than usual, but _alive_ at the same time. Her cheeks were naturally pink, flushing with happiness. Her eyes were glittering from tears, but these weren't the usual tears of heartbreak and desperation. No, these were tears of bliss. Absolute, sweet, and _perfect_ bliss.

She swallowed and took a deep breath as she began her descent down the aisle, the train of her dress fluttering behind her with a soft whisper, like the beating of a thousand butterflies' wings. All of the nations stood in their pews, watching her in awe. Even the foolish ones, such as America or Prussia, all of them watched, smiles on their faces. She walked gracefully down the aisle, the most dignified lady in the world at that moment.

The sobs of her older sister could be heard echoing through the church, the sniffles of a certain Italian joining it. She looked lovely in her Maid-of-Honour garb, golden-yellow like the bride's decoration, with pearly white ribbons and jewelry. She held a handkerchief to her face, a large smile on her lips.

_Katya looks very beautiful today as well, _Natalia noted briefly before her eyes flickered to the groom, her heart almost stopping as they fell upon his perfect form. Her lips renewed the smile she'd worn all day.

_Vanya… my Big Brother…_

She gripped the bouquet tighter, a lovely composition with a sunflower as the center and complimenting white and yellow roses and daisies and the like around it.

After what felt like an eternity, she was there. She was _there_ and she was _in front _of him, her groom, her brother, her _perfection. _After all of these long, heartbroken years, she was finally at the alter, and _he_ was with her, and it was _perfect, _more perfect than she could have ever _imagined, ever._

He was dashing in his uniform-like tuxedo, his beloved scarf still around his neck and the most genuine smile he'd had for years. His beautiful violet eyes looked into her own, gentility and happiness shining in them, making her heart restart. His hands met hers, and the ceremony began.

They said their vows, and her voice almost shook from the tears that were inside, tears of perfect bliss.

Then, finally, _finally, _they were at the "I do's."

"Do you, Ivan Braginski, take Natalia Arlovskaya to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Her mouth went dry, and her blood pounded through her veins. Part of her is afraid that he wont say it, that it was a joke. Or that she will wake up, and it was all a dream.

She nearly choked when he said softly, lovingly, "da, I do."

"And do you, Natalia Arlovskaya, take Ivan Braginski to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Her voice cracked and sounded a little high-pitched when she almost _whimpered_ her reply-

"I-I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

Then his arms were around her gently and the tears were flowing and his lips met hers _oh-_so-very sweetly and her mind went blank from joy and this was _perfect, _just so godamned _perfect_ and not even her dreams could make it so perfect.

The world was spinning and her eyes were closed and her lips were open and _oh, Vanya, you taste so fucking __**good**__._

He pulled away delicately, leading her back down the aisle. The reception was good, yes, but it was after…. They cut the cake and had their toast and then they were on the road.

The next thing she knew, she was in a bed with billowing sheets and fluffy pillows and he was holding her. Her beautiful dress, the one that Heaven itself was jealous of, was strewn onto the floor and neither of them were wearing anything and _dear God, that was amazing_ and _his skin is a lot warmer than you'd think and it feels lovely _and everything was more perfect than she could have ever imagined.

She gave a contented sigh, and she was so happy, her heart was going to explode and life was just so beautiful and _perfect_ and everything was just _perfect_ and nothing could ruin this, nothing, not ever, could ruin this.

He held her tightly and she smiled into his skin and he smelled wonderful and _perfect_ and she was just so fucking happy and he kissed her gently and wished her good night sweetly and she closed her eyes and all was dark and perfect and beautiful.

Nothing could ruin this. Nothing ever.

Nothing, that is, until she wakes up the next morning and realizes.

Yes, this was all just a dream.

A beautiful, perfect dream, and when she opened her eyes in her own cold and lonely bed in her own room in her empty hom-

_house it wouldn't be home until Vanya is here_

-house and she was cold and empty and alone and her heart was breaking into thousands of piec-

_Thousands of butterflies' wings that's what her dress was like as she walked down the aisle_

-and she was crying and she was sobbing and her heart was _broken_ and she was whimpering and curled up and _alone_ and nobody cared and it hurt and _oh, dear God, why!_

It was like she was drowning in glass confetti, the shattered pieces of her heart, spilling down her throat and filling her lungs and she could feel herself bleeding inside out and she was screaming out her sobs, her eyes flooded with tears

_-but not the tears of perfect happiness and bliss, not this was heartbreak-_

and they hurt and she hurt and everything hurt and just like that she was nothing she was broken she was a mess and _oh, dear fucking God, __**why!**_

Her fists clutched at her sheets and they were soaked in her misery and despair and she was so empty and it wasn't fair it just _isn't fucking fair! _and all she wanted was for it to end, to keep living in that dream, in that perfection-

Then she wondered. Who said she couldn't? Why couldn't she have that beautiful dream? What if she _could _have it, forever and ever?

It'd be a lot better than going through this every night; she'd had enough of this breaking _no, shattering_ into pieces and shakily putting herself back together, all alone _and it's no wonder she's so insane._

She held the blade at her throat_ because there's no point in aiming for her heart, it's already dead and broken and in many pieces_, ready to plunge it through, and she said in a broken whisper,

"_You may now kiss the bride."_

She died with a smile on her lips, because she was now in that beautiful world of perfection she had craved so much, that blissful world where she was with her brother, her _groom, _her _perfection._

And it was, indeed, _far_ more perfect than anything she'd ever dreamt before, because this time, she wouldn't wake up.

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**A/N: just so you know, I clearly know nothing about Russian /or/ Belarusian wedding. Someday I /may/ rewrite this after researching that, but don't count on it. It's 5AM and I've been working on this since 3 and yeah. No. not going to fucking research anything. :'D**

**And yes. It was a trap. Though that may have been obvious from the beginning?**

**And I don't want to hear shit about ooc. Because this is how I'd see it if she were to actually get her wish. As for Vanya, she was dreaming. So.**

…**god I hope people read this to the end. OTL**

**Anyways. Thank you so much for reading~**

**I hope you enjoyed it. C:**

**~Avio**


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